


Toucher le Ciel

by Aloysius



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, This is slightly ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 04:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aloysius/pseuds/Aloysius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire has imagined for some time what kissing Enjolras might be like, as Enjolras has wondered in return about doing the same to Grantaire.</p><p>One of Courfeyrac's many parties gifts them with the opportunity, but they aren't quite expecting it to end the way it does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toucher le Ciel

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this post on Tumblr and couldn't resist. http://pantiesjolras.tumblr.com/post/52378714186/if-youre-sad-just-imagine-grantaire-and-enjolras
> 
> Many many thanks to [Zimriya](http://archiveofourown.org/users/zimriya/pseuds/zimriya) for betaing!

Jehan had insisted, absolutely _insisted_ , that he did not want a party to celebrate moving in with Courfeyrac. However, this was Courfeyrac, so of course there was going to be a party. They didn't exactly plan it, as they often didn't; it was more a case of Courfeyrac sent around a mass text saying 'tonight', and people showed up with alcohol and Doritos. Enjolras insisted as vehemently as Jehan had that no, he really was not going, but inevitably he got swept along with the rest of them until he was stood awkwardly in Courfeyrac's - and Jehan's, he must remind himself – kitchen.

There are a lot of people here he doesn't know, because Courfeyrac knows everyone, and he edges close to Combeferre, playing with an unopened bottle of cider in his hand as the kitchen becomes gradually more and more crowded.

"How early can I leave without seeming rude?"

"It's Courfeyrac." Combeferre remarked, opening his own beer. "You can't. He'll be offended if you don't wake up half naked on the front lawn in a pile of your own vomit wearing somebody else's shoes."

"Well then, he will just have to be offended because I am not doing that." Enjolras huffed, pushing himself off the kitchen counter and weaving his way towards the living room. 

Courfeyrac is in the doorway and he frowns, pulling the cider out of Enjolras hand (there is quite the tug of war) before replacing it with a glass of a dubious looking unidentified liquid. Enjolras reluctantly downs it under Courfeyrac's unimpressed gaze. Courfeyrac's frown quickly brightens to his usual grin as Enjolras grimaces, and he claps him encouragingly on the shoulder. 

Enjolras puts the glass down and shoves past him.

Admittedly, going into the living room was probably not his greatest idea. It is horrendously crowded, and really Enjolras has no idea how he'd even got this many people in the room. The two seater sofa has been pushed up against the wall, and Jehan, Feuilly, Joly and Bahorel are crammed onto it. 

Jehan looks positively distraught. Enjolras can't seen any obvious reason for this, but with Jehan it often isn't. The music is deafeningly loud, and thank god Courfeyrac's neighbours are on holiday, but Jehan is audible even over the music.

"I told him no!" He wails, as Enjolras perches on the arm of the sofa. "I had to hide all my vases! What if someone finds them! What if the Royal Crown Derby vase gets broken! It's an _Imari Golden Jasmine vase!_ " His voice gets higher and higher as he talks, and he puts his head in his hands." _It was a graduation present!_ "

"Don't worry, Jehan." Feuilly coos comfortingly. "We hid them pretty well, and the room's locked. Someone would have to really try to get in there." He pets Jehan's hair.

"His friends are pretty decent mate, I wouldn't be too worried." Bahorel reassures him.

Jehan is hard to convince. He has, after all, been to Courf's parties before, and it's not often they end well. Enjolras hopes for Jehan's sake that the vases really are hidden well; if Bossuet is clumsy when he's sober, that's nothing compared to when he's drunk.

Joly is quiet during this outburst, and has his hand on his forehead. "Is it hot in here or am I hot? Feuilly, Feuilly, here, do I feel hot to you?"

"I have a fan if you want to cool yourself down?" Feuilly offers, grabbing one that is sticking out of his jeans pocket.

Jehan sniffles and leans over,pressing his hand to Joly's forehead. "You feel fine to me."

"Are you sure? Because, you know, you aren't medically trained I mean no disrespect I'm not discounting your opinion I'm just saying maybe someone with a little more medical knowledge might be -"

"Combeferre is in the kitchen." Enjolras cuts in smoothly, and Joly flings himself from the sofa with such force he knocks Bossuet's drink all down his shirt as he comes over.

"Why is it always me." He asks Jehan, who shrugs, dabbing at his eyes.

Enjolras leans over to put his hand on his arm. "Have a word with Courf tomorrow. You know what he's like with his parties, but he needs to understand this is your home too."

Jehan gives Enjolras a grateful smile as Enjolras pats him comfortingly on the shoulder before slipping from the sofa. People keep drifting too close and bashing into him, nearly knocking him on top of everyone on the sofa, so he gives up. He's sure Jehan will be fine, as will his vases. He does know, of course, what Courfeyrac is like with his parties and Jehan is usually roaring drunk with everyone else (Enjolras distinctly remembers him doing body shots at the Christmas party, and he, Grantaire and Bahorel charging around in the snow without many clothes, much to Joly's distress) but he supposes it's different when it's in his own home. Jehan is particular about his belongings after all.

The music is beginning to give him an altogether undesirable headache, and he spies the patio doors through the crowd. Weaving his way through everyone (and receiving another drink from Courf, this time an absurdly coloured thing in a bottle) he slowly makes his way to the door. Some people get a little too close to him, and not everybody has the decency to make it look like an accident. But hardly anyone notices him as he slips outside and shuts the door behind him. 

It's quite a warm night, but it's cool outside compared to the stifling heat inside, and he relishes the fresh air. Jehan has wasted no time making his mark on the garden. It's neat and well kept; there are climbing roses around the patio doors, neat flower beds lining the garden, a small vegetable garden with little tags in Jehans scrawling handwriting. The tree at the bottom of the garden now has a swinging seat hanging beneath it, and he's pretty sure having fairy lights outside is some sort of health hazard, but Jehan will definitely argue if he brings it up. The only source of Courfeyrac's presence in the garden is the trampoline (a _trampoline_ for christs sake). Someone is sat on it with their back to Enjolras, but they turn when the door shuts, and he sees it is Grantaire.

"What's the matter Apollo, can't handle a good party?"

Enjolras folds his arms. "You say, as you're out here yourself. And don't call me Apollo, you know how I feel about that."

"Ah yes, your most hated of the Greek gods. My most sincere apologies." He raises his beer bottle to Enjolras, then drains it.

Enjolras shakes his head and makes his way over, leaning on the edge of the trampoline and setting the offensively coloured drink down. "Why are you out here?"

"Oh, i'm not much of a social person. There are far too many people in there. Makes me uncomfortable." He leans over to put the empty beer bottle on the floor. "Care to join me up here?" He pats the trampoline next to him invitingly.

Enjolras almost scolds himself for thinking that Grantaire looks particularly beautiful in the golden light cast by the fairy lights, but he found out approximately four hours earlier that Grantaire had romantic feelings for him, so perhaps it's okay. He probably wouldn't have known had he not been out with Jehan pre-party. He came back from getting coffee and Jehan was talking to Courfeyrac on speakerphone, this he heard Courfeyrac blurt it out. In hindsight it probably wasn't the best way to find out, especially not since he nearly dropped his coffee in shock. Given the way Grantaire rips his ideals to shreds everyday he'd thought Grantaire hated him. The revelation he felt differently shocked Enjolras as much as realising his own feelings had.

Enjolras removes his shoes and climbs up next to Grantaire.

"Jehan's upset." He begins by way of conversation.

Grantaire nods wisely. "Ah yes, the Royal Crown Derby vase. I did tell him i'd buy him another if it got broken but I can understand why he's upset."

"You bought that?" Enjolras asks incredulously.

"Yeah, graduation present. He bought me the bike in return."

"So, because you finished your A Levels, he bought you a motorbike and you bought him a £200 vase." Enjolras says, slowly. He can't quite comprehend spending that much money purely to celebrate passing A Levels. "I hate to think how much you're planning to spend when you graduate from Uni."

Grantaire only winks, then adds as an afterthought, "It was £315, by the way."

Enjolras gestures to Grantaire's bare arms. "You can afford that but not a jacket?"

"What do I need a jacket for? A little exercise will get me warm soon enough!" He stands up and bounces once, as if to prove his point, then thinks better of it an continues. Enjolras is still sitting and is being bounced around uncontrollably.

"Grantaire, can you _not?_ "

Grantaire backflips, then does a neat seat drop. "This would be less of a problem if you'd stand up." He offers his hands to Enjolras, and has time to bounce - and he bounces high - five times before Enjolras reluctantly takes his hands.

"This is absurd."

Grantaire grins. "Well, I guess I know what i'm getting you as a graduation present."

"Don't you dare. I will buy you a book on Robespierre Grantaire I swear to god."

"You _fiend!_ " Grantaire shrieks, and lets go of Enjolras' hands to promptly seat drop. "No really, if you had to buy me a graduation present what would you get me? I'm curious now."

Enjolras thinks for only a second. "Ballet shoes, oil paints, violin strings and canvases."

"Aw, Enjolras. I'm touched." He takes Enjolras hands again.

"But what would you get me, besides a trampoline?" He doesn't particularly mind the trampoline so much, but his feet are starting to get cold so he'd rather it not be a habit.

"A stripper in a French flag." Grantaire answers without hesitation. "Or a kiss. Fancy a kiss?"

He's joking of course, making smooching noises, and clearly isn't expecting Enjolras to say 'yes'. Grantaire splutters for a moment, so Enjolras takes the initiative and leans forward. They are still bouncing however, and his forehead smashes into Grantaire's nose.

"Oh _fuck_ sorry!" He stops bouncing and clutches his nose. "That was the least romantic thing anyone has ever done, yeah I didn't mean to do that can we not talk about that again?"

"I am so sorry!" Enjolras is mortified. This is not how he imagined it going. "God you're bleeding everywhere i'm sorry!"

"It's alright, i've had much worse from Bahorel I assure you." Grantaire grins and waves him off. "Come on, try again, i'm prepared this time!"

“But you're bleeding!” Enjolras starts fumbling in his pockets for a tissue.

“It's really no big deal! I really am so sorry I can't believe I did that.” Grantaire begins to laugh nervously.  
“Stop apologising you dork, you're _bleeding!_ ”

Grantaire swats Enjolras' hands away as he tries to grab his chin to inspect the damage. “No really promise me you aren't mad that was an accident i'm-”

“Stand still and let me look at you!” Enjolras demands. Grantaire gives in and folds his arms as Enjolras dabs at his nose. “You should let Joly take a look at this.”

“It's not so bad, really. Are _you_ okay?” Grantaire looks embarrassed, and plops down on the trampoline heavily, bouncing a little.

Enjolras sits down next to him gently. “I'm fine. But you, uh, mentioned trying again?”

This time Grantaire doesn't waste time, and he rests his hand softly on Enjolras face as he kisses him. That's better, Enjolras thinks to himself, much better. Grantaire gives him a sheepish smile as he pulls away, then goes bright red and flops backwards onto the trampoline, bouncing a little.

"Don't do that, you'll choke on the blood." Enjolras scolds, and he flips over onto his stomach.

"I would rather look at the stars than the bottom of a trampoline, dear Apol – Enjolras."

Enjolras lies back next to him and eyes the clouds. "You can't see them anyway. It's too overcast."

Grantaire sighs loudly. "How am I supposed to be creative when even nature is against me?"

"I thought I was your muse?" Enjolras pretends to be offended.

"Oh, but of course!" Grantaire cries. "My beautiful work of marble, how could I ever love another but you! You, who light a room with your very presence, whose cutting words sound soft as they fall from such a harsh mouth!" He sits up to gesture grandly with his arms. "Golden hair to be the envy of other angels, because surely, a man so fine must come from no other than heaven itself! Eyes that rival the sky and roses in your cheeks! Never could I want for a great subject for -"

Enjolras shuts him up with his mouth, running his tongue shyly over Grantaires bottom lip. His hands are gripping Grantaire's thin tshirt, and Grantaire's own are tugging at his hair. He can feel Grantaire smile against his lips; he tastes a little bit like blood, and as disgusted as Enjolras should probably be it really isn't all that bad.

"You know," Grantaire says breathlessly as Enjolras pulls away to place gentle kisses along his jawbone, "I think trampolines bring put the best in you." Enjolras 'hmms' his response, letting Grantaire run his fingers through his hair. "I should definitely buy you one and we should definitely do this more often."

"We don't need a trampoline to do this more often. There is a thing called a 'date' you know."

Grantaire is silent for a minute. "You want to go on a date with me?"

"That is what I said, yes"

"... _you_ want to go on a date with _me_?"

"I'm kissing you aren't I?"

Grantaire lets out a soft "huh." and sits back, one arm around Enjolras' waist, who is wrestling his jacket off and putting it around Grantaire's shoulders.

"I think you broke my nose."

**Author's Note:**

> I truly apologise for the formatting in this, it doesn't like me.
> 
> Come say hi on Tumblr! http://hoshgeldinkardeshim.tumblr.com/


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